


To the Beat of the Drums.

by kotabear24



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Embarrassment, M/M, Pampering, Self-Seduction, weird relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 10:53:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2505236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kotabear24/pseuds/kotabear24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis' neighbor gets the address wrong. Cue an unexpected guest, interrupted self-seduction, meddling, nosy friends, and very thin walls. Also, there's smooth jazz.</p><p>Title from Ke$ha's <i>Die Young</i>. </p><p>Thanks to my lovely beta Graciele. You're a rock star.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To the Beat of the Drums.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a distraction from the fact that I'm not posting the **'Touch' timestamp** until **Monday at 8:45a.m. east coast (1:45p.m. UK time)**. In the mean time, read this and anything else you might've missed, and brush up on the mainfic.:) Thanks for your patience! xx

The candles were lit. The lights were dimmed. The muted porn was on the TV. The soft jazz was playing, and Louis was feeling pretty fucking stupid. 

It was all thanks to _fucking_ Zayn, who didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut once Perrie put on that fucking harness and commanded Zayn to tell her his secrets. Louis could kick his ass, if he weren’t slightly scared of Perrie and her harness. 

Louis had _confided_ in Zayn that it’d…been a while. For him. Sexually. It’d been about eleven months, actually, and Louis’d also confided - _confided_ \- that he’d been having a hard time having a really good orgasm. Because of his dry spell, probably. It was supposed to be idle complaints between bros sharing weed, and it wasn’t supposed to go anywhere.

Until a few days later, when Perrie knocked on his door with a giant bag from Lush and a smaller bag from Target and an I’m-sweet-but-don’t-fuck-with-me smile. Louis let her in and offered her tea. 

“I’ve heard about your problem,” she announced. Louis burned himself on the water, but played dumb. “That you haven’t got your dick wet in a long time,” she elaborated. Louis swore. 

“Harness?” He asked, and Perrie looked smug. 

“Harness,” she confirmed. Louis hated his best friend. “The point is,” she said as she took her tea with an absent _thank you_ , “you’ve been having some trouble. I wanted to come help. Nobody should go that long without an amazing orgasm. It’s not healthy.”

“I’m pretty sure I went, like, eleven years without it,” Louis said stubbornly, but Perrie wasn’t having it.

“Louis, you’re not _listening_ ; you’re – really?” She paused, looking at Louis with a gaze that made him feel awkward. “You were _eleven_? I was like _nine_ , Jesus Christ –”

“Can we _please_ stop talking about this?” Louis begged, but Perrie shook herself and spoke over him.

“Alright, your being a late bloomer isn’t the focus of today. The focus of today is to have an orgasm, and I’m going to help.” She said it proudly, and seemed to be waiting for Louis to answer. 

“Perrie,” he began slowly, not wanting to offend. “You know, you’re great. And stunning, and I totally get what Zayn sees in you –”

“Oh my _god_ , you’re seriously stupid if you think I’m _helping_ you,” she said, laughing loudly. She leaned her head back for a moment, laughing up at the ceiling, until she brought herself to face Louis again with pink cheeks. “You’re gorgeous, darling, but you’re not subby enough for me. I’d likely kill you before either of us got anywhere.”

“Same,” Louis answered, feeling relieved. “So – how are you going to help me, then?” He asked hesitantly. 

“With pretty things I bought!” She answered cheerfully, lifting up the bags and starting to empty them. Some of the things, he’d seen quite a few times: lotions, a CD, a body scrub, candles, a packet of lube – but there was a giant, orange and yellow, round _thing_ sitting on his table, rocking slightly from side to side. 

“What’s that?” He asked, pointing to it.

“It’s a bath bomb!” She answered. “Put it in your bath water and let it explode, then get in.”

“You want me to use all this stuff?” Louis asked, slightly intrigued, though he’d never admit it. Perrie probably knew, anyway.

“Yeah,” she said. She went about introducing each product, and Louis half-listened as he heard the door of the next apartment open and shut, and he sighed.

That boy – Harry something, Louis knew – was _so_ attractive. He had this curly, ridiculous hair that sort of went all over the place, and Harry’d been growing it out for some reason – Louis didn’t care what the reason was; it was insanely attractive – and his eyes were this really peculiar blue-green, sort of like they went back and forth between the colors – but they were always attractive and somehow always so _deep_. Harry was always smiling, even that time when he'd dropped a full bag of groceries on his foot and the milk had exploded all over the hall. Louis’d helped him mop up the mess, and Harry’d been so grateful and smiley, with his gorgeous dimples and beautiful, naturally-straight teeth. He was incredible. Louis wanted to lick him from head to toe. 

“Louis! Are you even listening?” Perrie asked, snapping her fingers in front of Louis. 

Louis jumped, and then smiled a little apologetically. “Sorry,” he lied. “I’ll figure it out, though, okay? I can read directions, and all. Promise.”

“I guess,” she answered, though she seemed unsure. “Listen – the idea is to pamper yourself, alright? Give yourself some romance. To you, from you. Your body will be grateful. Swear.”

With that, Perrie had left, mumbling down at her phone as she texted Zayn, presumably something about bondage, or whipping, or…Louis liked to pretend he wasn’t intrigued. 

Louis had taken a bath, and put on the fucking CD. He’d quite enjoyed the bath bomb, which had a lovely citrusy smell to it, and the lotions felt quite nice, though the hair on his leg had made it a little less nice. He was laying out on the couch, completely naked, and was just about to grab the lube – which had a tingling sensation, according to the label – when his door burst open and a tall woman with an energetic smile stood at his door.

Louis let out a shrieking scream as he convulsed off his couch in surprise and landed on his stomach, immediately scrambling to cover himself up as the woman also screamed and covered her eyes. Louis hurriedly turned off the TV.

“Who _are you_?!” Louis yelled, grabbing the old afghan his mother had made for him when he was a kid from where it sat, draped over the giant chair in the corner of the living room. Oh, great. Now, he was thinking of his mother. Mood 100% ruined. 

“Who are _you_?!” The woman echoed, still covering her eyes. “You’re not my brother!” 

“Well,” Louis blustered, because _obviously_ , “you’re not _any_ of my sisters! Could you shut the fucking door?!” 

“Right,” the woman said, and shut the door _behind her_. She still covered her eyes with her other hand.

“I meant with you _outside_!” Louis shrieked. “Why the fuck are you barging into people’s apartments!?” He demanded. “Who does that!?” As he asked, he looked around for some fucking clothes to put on so he didn’t have to hold his childhood security blanket against his naked cock. He found a laundry basket and ripped through it, finding a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, though he couldn’t find any pants. Fine enough; at least he’d be covered. Once he was dressed, he moved to the stereo and turned off the fucking smooth jazz, which was not so smooth, anymore.

“Where do you expect me to go?” The woman asked, irritated. “Are you Niall?”

“Am I – you don’t even know who’s in the apartment you’re barging into?!” Louis asked, and he was pretty aware that he was probably, maybe, slightly overreacting, what with all the shrieking. 

The woman started to retort back angrily when, for the second time that night, Louis’ front door burst open and there stood Super-Hot Harry, his neighbor, in a Green Bay apron made to look like a frilly dress, with his hair tied back in a headscarf and a horrified look on his face. “Gemma!” He shouted. 

“Harry,” she said, relieved, and shot Louis a dirty look. “I thought you said Niall was cool,” she accused, and pointed a finger at Louis. “This one’s a dick. Why were you out in an apron?”

“Why are you in this apartment?” Harry asked, looking between the girl – Gemma – and Louis with a horrified expression on his face.

“Does anyone know how to fucking knock?!” Louis asked, louder than either of them. 

“You said C twenty-five!” Gemma told Harry, ignoring Louis completely. Louis huffed, because _what_?

“Gem, I said C twenty- _four_ ,” Harry insisted, patting down his pockets and pulling out his phone. 

“Hello?” Louis shouted. “Still in my apartment! Still interrupting my night! Still in the middle of my living room!”

Gemma hit Harry’s shoulder and face-palmed herself. “Did you seriously give me the wrong apartment?! I just walked in on this guy getting himself off!”

“I was _not_ –” Louis lied vehemently, but Gemma just snorted and ignored him.

“He was in the middle of a porno and was listening to _smooth jazz_ , Harry; who the hell do you live around?”

“Hey,” Louis started, but Harry and Gemma both ignored him.

“There’s nothing wrong with smooth jazz,” Harry defended – Louis thought – and then shook his head at her, like he was disappointed in her. “And maybe he just wanted to treat himself. You’re right, though,” he added sheepishly, looking between Louis and Gemma. “I _did_ type twenty-five.” He turned to Louis, then, and Gemma huffed and stalked out of the apartment, leaning against the wall. “Louis, I am _so_ sorry,” he began sincerely, and Louis felt his face heat up. He wanted to crawl in a hole. 

“No, that’s fine,” he said, going for casual and breezy and probably missing the mark by a fucking mile. “That’s – I’m sure it happens all the time, probably, to people who are not me. Just – yeah, you can – sorry for the mix-up.” Why was he apologizing. “Can you shut the door on your way out? I think I’m just…” Louis pointed vaguely behind himself, and turned to go, hating himself and, by proxy, his life more and more every moment. 

“Louis,” Harry began. 

“No, really,” Louis insisted, his face getting hotter and hotter. “Just go ahead. Enjoy your sister, please.”

He walked to his bedroom and shut the door behind him, leaning against it and fighting the urge to scream. 

\---

Louis hadn’t spoken to Perrie in two weeks. Every time he considered it, he remembered that he also hadn’t made eye contact with Harry in that same amount of time, despite Harry’s several attempts to engage him in conversation. Louis strictly went to work and back home, not taking calls from anyone but co-worker, Liam, who was also a little concerned. (Louis got rid of that, though, by pouncing on him and giving him a lovebite right on his neck, where his girlfriend would undoubtedly see it. Louis never claimed not to be a dick.)

So, when Zayn waltzed right into Louis’ apartment, Louis wanted to punch himself in the fucking face for always forgetting to lock his door – though Zayn _did_ have a key, so there was really no avoiding that can of worms, he supposed. “What do you _want_ , you awful best friend?” Louis whined, groaning into his pillow as he laid on the floor of his living room, playing _Whacked!_. 

“I wanted to check on you, asshole,” Zayn answered, and Louis snorted. 

“You mean, Perrie put on her harness, fucked you, and then told you to come check on me because she’s too nosy for her own good and she doesn’t know what to do when I don’t answer her calls or let her in?” He corrected.

“Nobody likes an asshole,” Zayn said calmly.

“I do,” Louis countered. “I like an asshole.”

“Alright, well, I just came to make sure you weren’t dead,” Zayn said, and Louis heard the faint concern in his voice, but he knew Zayn was mostly amused because Louis rarely got embarrassed. 

“I bet you love this,” he whispered viciously.

“What?” 

“Nothing,” Louis lied, pausing the game. He rolled over onto his back and looked over at Zayn, who was perching on the arm of his couch. “Don’t sit on my furniture like that, you’ll kill it.”

“Your furniture is the shittiest furniture I’ve ever seen in my life,” Zayn said calmly, and continued sitting on the arm like a dick. 

“Don’t come in here and insult my furniture and expect to get anything out of me,” Louis grumbled, and rolled back over. “Your girlfriend’s a shithead.”

“She was trying to _help_ ,” Zayn defended half-heartedly. He knew Louis adored Perrie, and just needed to whine a little. 

“Do you know how embarrassing it is to be caught jacking off with _smooth jazz_ playing in my stereo?” He asked.

“There’s nothing wrong with smooth jazz,” Zayn said diplomatically. 

“There were _candles_ , Zee,” Louis wailed, smushing his face into the carpet. “I’ll never be able to look at him _again_!”

“Who, your dick, or Harry?”

Louis rolled over and threw his pillow at Zayn. It hit him in the face, but didn’t knock a single hair out of place. Louis hated him. “ _Harry!_ ” He shouted his answer, and regretted it when he heard loud footsteps in his neighbor’s apartment and remembered that Harry could hear him whenever he got too loud. Paper-thin walls.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Zayn tried to placate, but there was a knock on Louis’ front door as soon as he said it. Louis widened his eyes and shook his head wildly. 

“I’m not here,” he said frantically, and scrambled around to get to his bedroom, leaving Zayn to answer the door and hoping desperately that he’d live up to his best friend code. 

“Harry?” Louis heard Zayn ask when he opened the door. Louis is in his closet and frowned at himself for the irony of it. He heard Harry’s deep, rumbly voice, haltingly explaining something. There was a moment of quiet, and then Zayn clearly said, “Ah! Come on in, then! He’s just in his room; make yourself at home!” 

Louis was going to light Zayn’s things on fire. What a horrible person. Louis needed a new best friend. Maybe he’d promote Liam. 

He’d probably have to stop biting Liam’s neck, though, if he wanted Liam to accept his new position. 

He heard Harry’s clunky footsteps, from the weird-ass boots he always wore, and then his door squeaked open – Zayn, coming in to find him. Louis held his breath, hoping Zayn wouldn’t think to look for him in the closet, but no such luck. Zayn made a fucking _beeline_ for his closet door. All-knowing asshole. 

“Get out of the fucking closet, Louis,” Zayn whispered. 

“How’d you know I’d hide here?” Louis asked, refusing to budge. 

“I thought you’d know I’d appreciate the irony,” he answered, and tugged Louis out. He was surprisingly strong, for such a wiry little fellow. Louis hated him. 

“I told you to tell him I wasn’t home!” Louis hissed, gesturing angrily. He wanted to punch Zayn, a little bit. 

“I want you to work this out,” Zayn said, pushing Louis towards the door. “Go talk to him, he looked so hopeful, said he heard you yell his name and thought you might be calling him to come over.” 

“That is literally the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Louis insisted. Why would he call someone _through the wall_? 

“Like you wouldn’t do it,” Zayn answered scathingly. He pushed Louis towards the door and hissed, “I’m going to come back in a few hours unless you text me not to, alright? Love you, good luck.” 

He gave Louis an almighty shove that had him stumbling out into the living room, where Harry was sitting pristinely on his couch, looking around curiously. Upon hearing Louis’ quiet swearing, he looked over his shoulder and stood up with a happy grin on his face. “Louis,” he said happily, sighing like he was relieved, or something. “I’m glad to see you.” 

Louis didn’t respond for a moment, but Harry’s smile didn’t wane, not even a little, and Zayn cleared his throat as they stared at each other. “Right,” Zayn said. “I’m just…gonna go. My girlfriend wanted to have dinner, so…” 

Harry glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. It was 2:04 in the afternoon. “Better get going, then, or you’ll be late,” he said without a hint of sarcasm on his face. Louis’ mouth twitched. He didn’t want to smile at anything Harry said. He didn’t want to encourage Harry. He wanted Harry to leave. 

“Yeah,” Zayn agreed lamely. He was so lame. Without another word, he left, and the door shut soundly behind him. Louis hated him. 

Harry stood in front of the couch, doing nothing but watching Louis standing by his bedroom door. For a moment, Louis was tempted just to go back into his room, now that Zayn was out of the apartment and wouldn’t come back in to pull Louis out, but something about the hopefulness in Harry’s face made Louis sigh inwardly and get over himself. He slowly walked towards the couch. 

“Wanna play _Whacked!_?” He asked hesitantly, sitting down by the coffee table. 

“How do you play?” Harry asked without second thought, apparently, and sat down _right_ next to Louis, thighs touching, and everything. 

Louis explained the controls and handed Harry his extra controller – the faulty wireless one; he wasn’t losing just because Harry was new – and promptly ignored his problems for the better part of an hour. 

Eventually, though, he had to pee, so he paused the game and when he came back, Harry was texting and didn’t notice Louis’ return. 

“Who’re you texting?” Louis asked nosily as he sat down. 

“Gemma,” Harry replied, blushing. “My sister,” he added. As if Louis didn't remember. 

“So I heard,” Louis said, blushing, himself. “She, you know. Shouted at me, that I wasn’t her brother." 

“I’m _really_ sorry about that,” Harry began quickly, but Louis held his hand up and Harry cut himself off like Louis was magic, or something. 

“Don’t,” he said. “Don’t worry about it. Can we just…forget it happened?” 

“ _Please_ ,” Harry rushed. “I mean, I always thought you were really, really hot and cute, but now that I’ve seen what I’ve seen and Gemma told me what _she_ saw, I can’t stop thinking about it,” he blabbed, and wait. What? 

“You liked me?” Louis asked. They’d only spoken a few times, really. “You don’t even know me, Harry,” he said, smiling. 

Harry blushed again and bti his lip for a second before xplaining. “I – have really good hearing? And I think you’re, like, a little louder than you think, typically. You’re really funny.” 

Louis blinked. “You listen to me through the walls?” He asked. He wondered if he should be alarmed at how forthcoming Harry was about his stalking, or if he should be comforted by it. 

“Not – I don’t _listen_ ,” Harry insisted a little awkwardly, “I just – I _hear_ , is all. I don’t mean to; I just do. You’re – hard to tune out, sometimes.” 

Louis started feeling a little flustered as he tried to imagine the things Harry might hear. He was loudest when he was drunk and excited, or turned on. Which – oh, shit. 

“What, uh.” Louis scratched his nose awkwardly. “What have you heard?” He asked. 

Harry cleared his throat. “Well,” he began, “I hear when you party. Like, I’ve heard Zayn’s voice, a lot, and another girl’s voice. Your older sister, maybe? She’s – funny, but kind of bossy, which is my sister to a tee, so –” 

“That’s Perrie; she’s Zayn’s girlfriend and wears a harness when she wants to be obeyed, sometimes,” Louis said absently. 

“Oh,” Harry coughed. “Well. Uh. Okay. Yeah. I hear all that, basically. Just, like, conversations, and stuff. Oh, and little girls, like little sisters, sometimes, I’m pretty sure? They seem sweet.” 

“You know about my little sisters,” Louis said faintly. “What about them?” 

Harry blushed and fidgeted with his shirt. “Well, I know that you should really tell Lottie to break up with that Dylan kid. She doesn’t want to date someone like that, anyway. She should find someone who’s supportive.” 

“She wouldn’t listen to me if I told her my name was Louis,” Louis said. He had the distinct feeling he should be creeped out, by now, but maybe it really _was_ his own fault. He did a lot of Skyping in the living room, and he often hooked his computer up to his TV for better sound, and he _was_ a very loud person, naturally. 

Harry just watched Louis’ reaction quietly, looking a little resigned, like he knew he was weird and thought Louis wouldn’t like him anymore. It made Louis feel a little bad, but Louis didn’t want to tell Harry how much he liked him back, so Louis asked, “Want a beer?” 

Harry smiled, perking up a little, and nodded. “Sure,” he said, “thanks.” 

Louis went and got the beer, and they kept playing _Whacked!_ until Louis’ stomach growled, loud enough that it was almost embarrassing, for some reason, and made him laugh. “I don’t suppose you want to stay for pizza, or something?” He offered. Harry smiled apologetically. 

“I’d love to,” he said, “but I’ve got a late shift tonight; I actually have to leave in about half an hour. 

“Oh, that’s okay,” Louis said, picking at the carpet. “We can, you know. Hang out later, maybe. If you wanted, I mean.” 

Harry beamed, and nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah,” he enthused, “if you’re sure I haven’t, like, made it weird, or anything,” he added after. 

The smile on Louis’ face turned into a confused frown. “How?” He asked, and Harry shrugged. 

“Just, you know,” he said, a little mumbly, “by telling you I like you, and stuff. ‘S probably a little creepy, or something, right?” 

“Nah,” Louis said with a grin. “I, uh. I actually think you’re really cute, too. I mean, I don’t know you as well as you know me, or anything, but I – I probably shouldn’t say this, but I was actually, like…thinking about you? When – uh, when Gemma…got the –” 

“Oh, my god!” Harry said excitedly, letting out a bark of laughter. His eyes squinted up as he smiled, and his dimples threatened to take over his whole face. “You were getting off by thinking of _me_?” 

Louis flushed hot, but he couldn’t very well take it back, so he just nodded while Harry clapped like an idiot, and then nearly choked on his tongue when Harry settled down, his smile turning into a sexy smirk, and said, “I actually usually get off when you do. You get – loud. It’s intoxicating. And that’s probably the creepiest thing I’ve said today; I’m sorry.” 

Louis cleared his throat, squirming a little. He’d never been much into exhibitionism, but something about Harry listening to him get off in the past made him currently a little hot and bothered. Judging by the pink spreading across Harry’s face, he was in the same boat. They stared at each other for a moment before Harry suddenly lurched forward, pressing his lips against Louis’. 

It took Louis a second, but then he got right with it, kissing Harry back and moaning when he licked Harry’s lip and Harry opened his mouth right away. The game controllers fell from their laps as Louis pushed Harry to lay back, winding up hovering over his body and licking into his mouth. Louis kept his body a few inches from Harry’s, as much as he wanted to relax on top of him and see where time led, remembering that Harry had to leave soon. It had been a while, but Louis was pretty sure he could last a _little_ longer than that. 

Harry seemed to have other ideas, though: he wrapped his legs around Louis’ waist and pulled him down, rolling his hips just a little. His big hand cupped one side of Louis’ face as he moaned, flickering his tongue against Louis – being a little tease – and by the time Harry had to leave, Louis was more than a little hard and craving to find out what Harry’s dick tasted like. 

Harry’s alarm went off, though, and he groaned petulantly as he broke away from Louis gasping, and rested his forehead on Louis’. “I don’t want to go to work,” he whined, “I just got somewhere with you.” 

Louis snorted and rubbed up Harry’s back. “Tell you what,” he said after a moment of thinking. “Once you get off at work, you can come get off at mine, okay?” 

Harry laughed, more than a little surprised, apparently, and he pulled back to look at Louis consideringly, like he couldn’t tell if Louis meant it. 

“Seriously,” Louis said, “I haven’t gotten laid in forever and you’re insanely hot.” 

Harry blushed, but he also laughed, so Louis took that as a win. “I get off at, like, three in the morning,” he said. 

“Where the hell do you work?” Louis demanded, imagining the weird hours Harry must keep. 

“KLOVE 101.9,” Harry answered with a shrug. Louis blinked. 

“Isn’t that the Christian radio show?” He asked, and Harry giggled. 

“It’s a job, is what it is,” he said, “and I’m just a sound tech; I don’t do any of the preaching. I don’t want to wake you up,” he added, changing topics so fast that it took Louis a second to realize what he’d said. Before he could answer, though, Harry’s face lit up. “Oh, you could always just holler if you’re awake when I get home, and I can come over,” he said, his face showing a sort of, ‘why didn’t I think of that earlier!?’ expression. 

“Or,” Louis said, rolling his eyes, “I could just _give you my phone number_. That way, we don’t’ have to wake up any neighbors with all our shouting and…’hollering’.” 

“I plan to make you shout tonight,” Harry said, making his voice deep and affecting a seductive face that, surprisingly, was working for him. Louis didn’t want to make him leave. 

He pushed Harry up off him, though, with great inner strength, and typed his number into Harry’s phone and called himself, letting it go to voicemail wherever it was – probably in his closet, or something. 

“I’ll text you once I’m out of the studio,” Harry said between slow kisses as they inched their way to Louis’ door. “But I have to go, or I’ll be late. Delilah’s nice on the radio, but she can be evil when people are late.” 

“Ah, already getting behind-the-scenes in for on the channel,” Louis sighed, and then leaned in for one last kiss before he pushed Harry out the door and watched him walk down the hall, towards the elevator. 


End file.
